Heroes Returned
by LucyInTheSkyWithDiamonds7
Summary: After the fall of Voldemort, Harry Potter completely disappeared, leaving his one true love, Hermione, behind. Two years later who should return but the boy-who-lived himself. Great, I just gave away the entire first chapter. Hhr. Fluff.
1. Miserable

**Disclaimer: Guess What! I own everything. Everything! I am very rich and very clever and created Harry Potter. It's true. **

**Okay, it's crap. But what are YOU going to do about, punk? SUE ME? Do it, then.**

Hello, kiddies, long time no see. Here is my trillionth story, (this one might actually get posted, mind) and much to the great pleasure of Legs, (That sounds funny – ALLEGRA, then) it is H/Hr. (well, obviously you would know that because you're the one who clicked on this story and that's what the summary says. Der.) Sorry, I tend to crap on a fair bit. Just read the bloody story and REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW.

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**Heroes Returned**

**Chapter One: Miserable**

Hermione Granger stared aimlessly at the blank wall she faced. Head in hands, she blinked subconsciously, waking her from her day dream. Yawning, she caught a glimpse of the photos on her desk. There was a Muggle photo of her parents, a happy, smiling one of her and Ginny, taken on Ginny's last birthday and a large, wooden framed photo of her and the Weasleys taken last Christmas. They had been so good to her over the last two years. What with… nothing, she wasn't going to think about that.

Thinking of the Weasleys, she glanced over at the clock on her desk. Twenty five past five. _Twenty five past five? _Had she really been sitting there for twenty five minutes?

Jumping up from her chair, Hermione froze. She had five minutes to dress, tidy up her office and get herself to the Burrow. Easy. Picking up her wand from the table she muttered a spell which replaced her current clothes with a black skirt, white shirt and pink cardigan. She looked down at her clothing. She looked about three times her actual age of 20. Maybe that was why she didn't have a boyfriend. Who was she kidding? She knew exactly why she didn't have a boyfriend.

Twenty seven past five. Hermione looked around the office she was so proud of. Her position at the Ministry of Magic had entitled her to a somewhat spacious office with a window (not that it actually reflected the real world). She loved her job. She was very lucky to be appointed to such a prestigious job. Head Researcherfor Creature Rights and Entitlements in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was a respectable and high-paying job and she loved every second of her work there. But on a day like today not even her dream job could brighten her spirits.

After a quick tidy of her office, Hermione grabbed her bag and readied herself for apparation. Before she knew it, she was standing on the front doorstep of the burrow, shivering in the increasingly chilly night air. While knocking at the door, Hermione smiled subliminally. She loved her Friday dinners with the Weasleys. After ten or so seconds, Mrs Weasley appeared at the door, beaming.

"Come in, dear! No use standing out there!" She gushed, ushering the girl through the door. "Come through, come through! Ginny, Ron, Hermione's here," She shouted up the stairs.

Ginny was first to dash down the stairs. Embracing Hermione, she whispered through the Hermione's wild hair, "Are you alright? I do know what to day is, you know."

Hermione's eyes widened. It had never crossed her mind that anyone else would remember such a date. Quickly acknowledging her stupidity, she drew back meekly smiling. As the two made their way into the lounge room, Hermione mentally kicked herself. Of course everyone would remember.

"'Mione," Ron called from behind her. Hugging her tightly, he also whispered, "I know what day it is, you know. You must feel terrible, Herms, you certainly look it. Hey, I won't make a big deal, but you know I'm here, right?"

_Thanks, Ron, subtle as ever. _

"Come and have a drink, Hermione, dear." Mrs Weasley called from the kitchen. Hermione followed Ron into the kitchen. "We've got Pumpkin juice, butter beer…"

"Fire whiskey…" Ron offered, reaching into the cupboard behind his mother and pulling out a bottle before joining Ginny in the lounge room.

Mrs Weasley threw him a disapproving look before turning back to Hermione. "Anything you want, dear." She smiled.

"Pumpkin juice would be fine, Molly." Hermione replied earnestly.

Handing her a goblet Mrs Weasley smiled sadly. "Tea'll be up soon, dear. And don't worry; I know what day it is, too."

Hermione smiled incredulously. Did everyone know? Of course Mrs Weasley would know. It had hit the woman pretty hard when it happened. But nobody had suffered like Hermione. Maybe she was just being selfish thinking that this day wouldn't be important to anyone else. Bloody self pity. It was eating her up inside.

Staring into her goblet, Hermione didn't notice Mr Weasley's entrance. "Evening, all." He called, peeling of his work robes. Mr Weasley still hadn't been promoted and it broke Hermione's heart to think that such a hard working, enthusiastic wizard was stuck in a dingy office were he was virtually useless. "How are you, Hermione?" He asked cheerfully.

"Fine, thanks." She smiled unconvincingly, avoiding the gapes of Ginny and Ron. Apparently everyone - bar Mr Weasley - knew what today was.

"Is this it, then?" Hermione asked, addressing Ron.

"Nah, Fred and George are on their way. But Charlie's been held up with work and Bill and Fleur are still in France."

Hermione was not surprised that Ron didn't mention Percy. The Weasleys hadn't heard from him since March – and it was almost August. He hadn't taken the downfall of Cornelius Fudge very well. It had shaken his haughtiness and proven him to be an utterly blind fool.

Hermione nodded and sat down in front of the fire when it suddenly turned green. Through the emerald flames, out came Fred and George, dressed in their finery – unfortunately in the case, 'finery' meant turquoise dragonhide jackets and boots. Regrettably the success of their joke shop in Diagon Alley had meant substantial ego enlargements for the twins. All the same, they managed to make to the family dinner every week.

"Hello there, Hermione." They greeted, now fully equipped with they felt must be suavity.

"Hi," She replied with a sigh. Despite their new found wealth and expensive clothes Fred and George Weasley were about as smooth as Ron, who at this point in time was throwing peanuts in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. Nice.

Thankfully, Ginny grabbed Hermione by the arm and dragged her outside before either of the twins had the opportunity to envelop Hermione in one of their tedious ramblings about the growth and development of their business.

Grateful, Hermione produced the most wholehearted smile she given all day. Ginny was seemingly unimpressed. "What's the matter?"

Hermione's smile faded. "You know very well what the matter is, Gin." She said stonily.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "This is insane Hermione! It's been two years. That's a long time. Give up. He's not coming back!" Ginny said much louder than she intended to. She looked startled by her own words. "Look… I didn't… I'm sorry…" She stammered. It was too late, a solitary tear rolled down Hermione's cheek.

"No, you're right. I know Gin. I s'pose I've know for years. But it doesn't help in the slightest. I'm still miserable." Hermione collapsed on a grubby garden bench, more tears erupting with her words. Ginny sat down cautiously beside her.

"What terrible timing. You having to come here and be surrounded by all of us today, of all days." Ginny commented, staring out into the darkness.

"It's not your fault!" Hermione turned around to face her friend, the anger within her creeping up again. "It's his! He didn't have to leave! No-one forced him! He promised me, Gin, he promised he'd come back. And what does he do? Disappears. Runs away. Leaves… leaves me all alone." She whispered. Hermione completely broke down at this point. Hot tears streamed down her face as she buried her face in her knees. Ginny wrapped an arm around and comforted her as best she could. After what seemed like an age, but was really ten or so minutes, Mrs Weasley's voice broke the eerie silence in the garden.

"Dinner time!"

"Can you stall her for a while? I look terrible." Hermione pleaded from under her mass of hair.

"Sure." Ginny got up gently and went inside, leaving Hermione alone and cold on the bench. Taking a deep breath, Hermione sat up and wiped her eyes on the cuffs of her cardigan sleeves. Standing up, she took another deep breath and steadied herself, before brushing out her skirt and stepping back inside the house.

Eyes to the floor she began to apologise. "Sorry, I needed a bit of…" She realised the room was deadly quiet. She looked up. It soon became obvious why the room was filled with silence. Harry Potter stood motionless in the middle of the room.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," whispered Hermione, before collapsing tothe floor.

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Bet you didn't see that one coming. But then again this a fine piece of writing. Not as great as I would like but if I don't post it now I'll never post it and we don't want that. One thing I would like to say: I hate you Prerna, the evil cow who is absolutely against shipping altogether. Something I do not understand. I don't really hate you, you're just very wrong. VERY WRONG.

PS: Review… or PERISH. I'm serious. I KNOW WERE YOU LIVE. (Not really, but I will get violent – and throw things… _sharp things_)


	2. Solitary Tears

**Disclaimer: You know, the other day I was walking down the street when I bumbed into J.K. Rowling and she goes "Hey, you know what, I'm going to give you all the rights to Harry Potter." True story. Ok, except for the bits about J.K. Rowling and the rights Harry Potter. I did walk down the street, though. **

Well hooray for my reviewers! Thanks a bunch and lots ofimaginary flowers to Sk8ernv, AquaAddie, rachel, marissa and Princess Nightfire – (Btw, I'm not going to tell you that! That's the entire plot line. You'll have to keep reading – AND REVIEWING.)

Sorry this has taken a while but I've had rehearsals and other stuff (Cough, cough, Bette Midler concert!).

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Heroes Returned

Chapter Two: Solitary Tears

Hermione's eyes flickered open. As the Weasley's lounge room quickly came into vision, what had happened dawned on her. This was so embarrassing. She had fainted! Ministry of Magic employees did not faint. Looking around slowly, she noticed the sea of red heads was interrupted by a raven haired young man. What the hell was he doing there?

Hermione slammed her eyes closed. This was a dream, only a dream. Suddenly the final moments before her collapse came flooding back to her. Harry was back. But Harry couldn't be back. He had gone, he was thought missing, dead even. Taking a deep breath, Hermione slowly opened her eyes. The faces circling her limp body were full of worry and curiosity.

Seeing Harry she jumped up. Carefully avoiding his eyes, she ran across to the coat rack and grabbed her bag. "Well, this has been nice," she said lamely, looking everywhere but at Harry. "I have to be going. Thank you, Molly. Good Night." She ran out the door and closed it, before stepping out into the crisp, cool night air.

Taking yet another deep breath, Hermione held her head in her trembling hands for a moment and began to hurry down the driveway; she was in no state to travel by Floo Powder - she would surely get lost – let alone apparate. After four or five paces she heard the front door open and close. Knowing very well who would be at the door, Hermione speeded up.

"Hermione!" the voice called. "Hermione stop," The footsteps stopped. "Please?"

Hermione stopped abruptly and wiped back the seldom tear rolling down her cheek. She had forgotten about the power he had over her.

"Will you please listen to me? Just for a second?"

Hermione didn't turn around. "What can you possibly have to say?" she spat indignantly, crossing her arms.

"Don't be like that, Hermione," He begged. He didn't sound angry or annoyed, like she suspected her would be, at all.

Hermione turned around reluctantly. "What, Harry?" she asked bitterly. "Have you come to apologise, to explain yourself? You know, I've had enough, I just don't care anymore!" She lied angrily. She looked at him right in the eyes.

He looked terrible. He had aged prematurely, with dark bags starting to form under his eyes. His clothes were worn and his hair was more ruffled than ever. His face was so full of sadness that it broke her heart to see him this way.

"Hey, who am I kidding?" She laughed sadly, turning away from him again. She knew for sure she wouldn't be able to say what she aboutto while looking at him. "I never stopped loving you, Harry." She whispered. She shivered in the silence of the cold evening air. "And that's why I can't forgive you." She turned around and locked eyes with him. "It doesn't matter _why_ you left, it's the fact that you left in the first place! You played me like a fool. There I was thinking that you _loved_ me, Harry -"

"Hermione, you know that's not true. Of course I love you. That's why I-" Harry interrupted, while approaching her gently. As he drew nearer, Hermione could make outsolitary tear flowing down his cheek.

"Really, Harry?" She spat sarcastically, stepping back. "Just not enough to stay," She smiled scathingly.

"Hermione, no! It wasn't like that! You know it wasn't. I didn't think you would understand," He pleaded.

"WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND!" Hermione asked, outraged. Her hands slowly clenched into fists. How could he think something like that? "Harry, you have to be kidding me! You can't seriously believe that you were the only one who cared about them, can you?"

Harry looked away before muttering something along the lines of, "Yeah, but it wasn't your fault,"

Hermione, already flabbergasted about his last remark, gaped in disbelief. "Harry, how can you say that?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Why not, Hermione? It's true. It's my fault they died; my fault they all died! Voldemort was after me and they were just in his way. Don't pretend it wasn't like that."

"Harry, it wasn't like that and you know it." Hermione said solemnly. She wiped away the drying tears from her face and took a deep breath. "I…I don't think I can talk to you right now." And with one last look into his sad, tear filled eyes, she spun around and began to pace down the driveway. On reaching the curb, she whipped out her wand. In a matter of seconds, the Knight Bus came clanking down the street from out of nowhere.

"'Ello, Miss Granger, and what a pleasure to see you lovely face again." A giant grin broke out amid Stan's blemished face. He had suffered from quite an infatuation with Hermione for quite some time now. "Hey now, what's that frown doing on such a pretty face?" He asked, helping Hermione on to the bus.

"I wish I knew, Stan. I really do."

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Aw, I do love this chappie. Does that last sentence make sense? Well, if not, I'm sorry. All will be explained next chapter. So what will you now do? You'll grab your mouse and drag it over here - and REVIEW. That would be great. Thanks a bunch and a half,

Lucy


	3. Him and Her

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter why would I be writing on FanFiction? Come on.**

Author's note: Hi. I'm super sorry this has taken so long but I've have been retardedly busy.

PS: Seriously, people, do I have to write REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW to make you guys press that happy little purple button down in the corner? If so, this is a very sad day. PLEASE REVIEW! If you don't I will die. Maybe not die, but will be very upset, maybe to upset to update quickly. (Oooh, blackmail.) :)

PPS: Just because Legs brought this up, in the last chapter I said Harry had aged prematurely. Don't think that he's ugly or anything, he's just had a rough time. He's not that old-looking anyway. Shut up Allegra!

PPPS: I'm going to have a whack at some Harry POV writing here, so you HAVE to review and tell me what you think. I find it loads easier to write Hermione POV, but this is what I'm willing to do for my REVIEWERS (Cough, cough, REVIEW!)

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Heroes Returned

Chapter Three: Him and Her

What had she just done? She had been waiting for this day for so long and now everything was completely ruined. _Now he'll never want to speak to me again_. Why had she reacted like that? She had imagined that moment over and over in her head, and it never ended like it just did. Hermione slumped into the mattress on her makeshift bed on board the Knight Bus.

"Same old place, then, Miss Granger?" Stan asked from the front of the triple-decker bus.

"Yes, please, Stan," Hermione groaned as politely as possible from her bed. Stan said something to Ernie, the vehicle's driver, and Hermione's bed spun across the floor of the bus. _Great,_ she thought grumpily, _I'm going to vomit_. _That'll look just fantastic with the puffy red eyes and bright red nose. _

"So, what's this all about then?" Asked Stan, who was completely unaffected by the great movement the bus (and its solitary passenger) had just endured. The bus suddenly took off with a great surge of energy as Hermione's bed flew to the rear of the vehicle.

Hermione tried to steady herself. "What do you mean?" she asked innocently, looking away from him. As sweet as Stan was, she was in no mood to discuss what had just happened. She swayed as the bus continued to speed down the streets.

"Oh, nuffin', I s'pose." Stan grinned. Hermione still wasn't looking at him; too caught up in her own thoughts. She grimaced and let out a sigh.

The bus stopped abruptly, causing Hermione to fly from her bed to the floor of the bus ungracefully. Stan ambled over to her and offered a hand which she took appreciatively. Grabbing her handbag off of the bed, she steadied herself and sent Stan a friendly, though somewhat half hearted, smile. She could feel the sadness welling up inside her - she was going to start crying any minute now.

As she approached the bus's steps she offered yet another meek smile over her shoulder.

"If you ever need, y'know…" Stan mumbled, going red.

"Thanks Stan," Hermione replied kindly, before swivelling around and stepping onto the quiet street.

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Harry turned around. As he expected, six pairs of eyes were all looking pitifully upon him from the front door. Harry mustered up all the energy within him and began to stumble down the driveway. This was the last thing he wanted to do, surround himself with the people that he had abandoned, who he had betrayed. They would be expecting answers. He felt dirty being around them; he had caused them so much pain. But he had no choice, he was exhausted, physically, emotionally, and then there was Hermione…

Her reaction didn't really surprise him. In fact, he had expected her to slap him. She had every right to; he had ruined her life. But he'd get her back; he'd have to.

"Come in, dear," Mrs Weasley said sadly, as Harry drew near the front door. Her eyes were slightly red. She had been crying. _More pain I've caused, _thought Harry.

All of the Weasleys had similar expressions. Harry's feeling of filthiness only increased as Mrs Weasley led him into the house. Harry turned around to face the red-headed family. He opened his mouth to speak but Mrs Weasley shushed him. "It's alright, dear. No questions asked. We'll get some food into you and then up to bed." She smiled forlornly.

Harry didn't have the energy to fight her. He looked up at Ron and Ginny. They looked almost quizzically at him. Ron frowned, before turning and heading up the stairs hurriedly, not looking back. Ginny followed suit, but not without sending Harry an unreadable, yet filthy look.

Harry felt his heart sink even further as Mrs Weasley hurried around the kitchen. Fred and George spoke in hushed voices to their mother before smiling strangely at Harry and exiting through to the lounge room. The sound of a loud _whoosh_ let him know that the twins had just Flooed away.

Harry immediately noticed Mr Weasley's absence. Harry had no doubt where he would be. Contacting Dumbledore. Calling an Order meeting. Informing the ministry. _Why not? _He thought. He ought to go to Azkaban for what he did.

Mrs Weasley dropped a plate of food in front of him. She smiled yet again and sat down opposite him. _Why did people keep doing that?_ Harry thought. _Smiling. Smiling is what you did to a friend, not someone who's let you down as much as I had. _

Harry picked up his fork – and then put it down again. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, bemused.

Mrs Weasley's smile dropped. She cleared her throat and looked at him sterner than she ever had before. "Stop that right now. You're just as good as a son to me and no son of mine gets left behind." She shook her head. "Not even Percy." She mumbled.

Harry picked up his fork again and looked away from her. He slammed it down again, much more vigorously than intended, and looked at her again. "But… but… but I'm not! I'm not your son. I'm scum!"

"You're not scum, Harry," Mrs Weasley whispered.

"I let every one down!" He shouted much louder than he intended. He was now on his feet.

Mrs Weasley kept her place, not moving a muscle at Harry's great display of overreaction. "I'll not have a bar of that. Finish your food. I'll be back in a moment." She pursed her lips and stood up. She left the room, not looking back at the angst-ridden young man sitting at the table.

Harry slumped in his chair. He knew this was a bad idea. He couldn't even remember why had had come back in the first place, now. Why shouldn't he run out that door right now? He knew why: _Hermione. _He gave up with the food after about two minutes before stumbling up the stairs in the dark.

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Harry just can't help but be angsty and self pitying. I know he's not very likable at the moment but I'm seriously doing this at the last minute. And Mrs Weasley's so lovely (maybe not in this chap, but she really is a legend.) I wanted more for this chapter but I'm going out in like five seconds and I really wanted to update (cough, cough, ALLEGRA MADE ME.)

What do I write here again?

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Lucy


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